It just happened. I don’t know where it came from, or why it happened now, but here it is: I am homesick. What am I talking about? I miss my home country. It’s the food, you see. It’s the taste of the calissons d’Aix. It’s the tarte tropezienne. It is the local olive oil, the one that was coming straight from our garden, and that we used for the bougnette (the local equivalent of the garlic bread).
It’s also the freshness of the air, the mistral and the crisp light. Why did I leave again? Well, life happened, I suppose. And my daughters are more British than French anyway. Where does it leave me? Well, I am not sure.
Most of the time, I feel like I have the best of both worlds: the buzz of the city in London, and my little corner of Provence. But tonight, I feel torn between what what I have left behind and my life over here. Not to mention that I could do with an aioli right now. Come to think of it, I am positively starving.
Can you be from two places at the same time? Of course you can, but take my word for it: it sometimes stings a bit. And right now, I am suffering from a severe case of dual citizenship treason. You see, I have a complex, bi-national background and I don’t know where I belong any more. Don’t get me wrong, I am fully aware that, in today’s world, it is not unusual for someone to have multi-national backgrounds, such as being born and/or raised in a country different from that of the citizenship of their parents, or having parents whose citizenships are different from one another’s, or growing up in multiple different countries, and thus having strong ties to different places. It’s just that, tonight, I miss France and my childhood.
What to do? Well, a slice of lemon drizzle cake should help, right? How about you, what do you do when you are homesick?